A Union of Ice and Fire
by CreativeGirl247
Summary: When Isabella Stark, twin sister of Robb Stark, saw her father and her sisters ride away with the King to King's Landing, she never thought it would be the last time she saw her father. After the wedding where her brother and her mother were betrayed by the Freys and the Boltons, she believes she is the last Stark left alive and vows to avenge her slaughtered family.
1. Prologue

_** Prologue **_

Aegon remembered the day he saw her. The love of his life. She was dressed in a common rough spun gown, her hair let loose and flying behind her due to the wind. She was walking along the bay of Pentos looking at everything with such wonder in her beautiful eyes. He was captivated by her. While walking, she had bumped into him and had nearly fallen to the ground before he caught her fragile frame with his hands. He never though he would ever meet a girl like her. Jon Connington, even though he was dearly beloved by the prince, had always told him he would be married to create an alliance. That he would marry an old crone out of duty.

And yet here he was, standing inside Baelor's Sept waiting for the love of his life to walk inside. Everyone looked at him dressed in all his finery waiting for his bride to enter. His heart was beating like the wings of a hummingbird. The doors opened and she walked inside. Aegon's breath caught in his throat. She looked absolutely stunning. She looked at him with tears in her eyes. _Happy tears, I hope. _

"You look beautiful." He whispered to her when she reached him. "You don't look too bad yourself." She joked. He loved the fact that she could joke even during a time like this, when thousands of eyes were upon them. In fact, he loved everything about her.

The High Septon had just finished conducting all his rituals. Aegon had just removed her maiden's cloak and draped the colours of his house upon her. He gently pecked her cheek when he was done draping the cloak around her. "With this kiss, I pledge my love. And take you for my husband" She said gently, looking at him with her eyes filled with love for him. "With this kiss, I pledge my love. And take you for my wife." He kissed her soft lips passionately until they were both left gasping for breath. He had never felt happier in his life. He looked to his wife and felt comforted and loved. He finally had a real family now.


	2. South of the Wall

_**Chapter One- South of the Wall**_

_** Isabella Stark **_

"I think Theon looks especially handsome today; don't you think so, Sansa? I could swoon over his handsome face forever! But I think he only sees me as a little girl. His grins make me blush to my roots." Jeyne Poole was prattling along about Theon Greyjoy, father's ward, to my sister, Sansa. Arya was looking at Jeyne disgustedly. The expression on her face had me nearly bursting into a fit of laughter. My youngest sister, Arya was a stark contrast (no pun intended) to my other sister, Sansa.

"Your needlework is exceptional, Sansa!" Septa Mordane mooned over my perfect sister's work. "Yours isn't too bad either, Isabella. I see you are improving!" Septa Mordane even offered me a rare smile. "Yours on the other hand, Arya, are crooked again. When will you learn, child!" Septa Mordane chastised my little sister. In order to defend her, I concocted an easy excuse to get out of the room. "Septa Mordane, we have been cooped in here for too long. Perhaps Arya will do better when we return. May we be excused?" I asked her courteously. Make no mistake, I despised the woman but knew better than to give the woman an excuse for her to start an argument. "Oh well, I doubt it'll help. But do what you will." She excused us.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Arya hugged my legs after we exited the room. Chuckling, I replied, "Anything for you, little sister." We walked hand in hand to the yard where we saw Bran shooting an arrow way off target. "Relax your bow arm, Bran", my twin brother, Robb advised him. He let another notch loose and yet it didn't distinctly hit the intended target. "Concentrate, Bran." My bastard brother, Jon reminded him. Even though we weren't born from the womb of the same mother, Robb and I loved Jon dearly. Mother's icy behaviour towards him always annoyed me. He wasn't to blame for my father's affair and yet he was the one who was constantly punished and reminded that he wasn't as good as the rest of us.

From behind me, Arya sent an arrow loose which hit the target right in the centre. "Arya!" Bran screeched and ran after her while she sprinted away to avoid confronting his wrath. "Aren't you supposed to be doing needlework, sister?" Robb grinned at me. "Don't you dare remind me of it." I mock glared at him. He stuck his tongue out at me. "Very mature, Robb. How old are you? Three, perhaps?" I retorted.

"Jon, Theon, Robb, saddle up your horses. And prepare Bran's mare as well. There's been a deserter." Father then walked away to inform Bran. I followed him until he finally turned around to speak to me. "What is it, Isabella?" He asked, sighing. "Father, Bran is much too young to witness death. Please, I beg of you, let him stay." "He is old enough." He replied and began walking away again. "Father, if Bran allowed to come, then take me too." I asked him. "You are a lady, Isabella. Ladies are not meant to see gory sights such as death." He reprimanded me. "But I am a daughter of the North, a Stark. Winter is coming and we must all be prepared for it, father. Each and every one of us, be it man or woman." I tried to convince him. "Fine! Saddle your horse." He sighed and walked away.

I walked towards the stable where the stable boys were saddling the horses. "Joseth, could you please saddle up Charlotte for me?" I asked Joseth, the stableman. "Of course, milady" He bowed and left. "What are you doing here, Izzy?" Jon asked. The other two heard him and turned towards me. "Well, father gave me his permission to witness the beheading." I replied. "Ladies aren't supposed to see blood. How do we know you won't faint and we'll have to end up carrying you back to the castle?" Theon grinned. "Are you sure it won't be you who'll faint, Theon? I can handle myself." I replied and walked away.

We rode hard to a small holdfast in the hills. A small, scrawny man who had lost both of his ears and a finger to frostbite awaited us, bound hand and foot to the walls of the holdfast. Robb had voiced his doubts on whether the man was a wildling on our way to the holdfast. That was proven false due to the man's attire, black as those worn by the brothers of the Night's Watch. The man looked tormented, like he had seen something which had truly horrified him to the vast depths of his very being. "I saw them, the Others" The man uttered his last words looking up at father. "In the name of Robert of the House Baratheon, the First of his Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, by the word of Eddard of the House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, I do sentence you to die." Father swung the ancestral valyrian steel blade of our House, Ice, over his head and cut the man's head off in one single blow. Robb looked grim as well as he knew than one day; he would be bestowed upon the task. Such was the way of the Northern men. 'If you sentence a man to his death, you must wield the blade yourself.' I remember Father saying once.

"Do you think what he said was true, that the White Walkers are back?" I asked father while we were riding back to Winterfell. "It's just a myth, Izzy. Nothing to worry about." Robb replied. I looked to father, waiting for a response. "Insane men see queer visions which are not to be trusted." Father replied. "Father, you must see this!" Jon said, reappearing into my line of vision. To tell the truth, Jon and I looked more alike than I and Robb. We had both inherited dark brown hair and grey eyes of the North while Robb had mother's colouring of auburn hair and blue eyes.

A direwolf lay dead by what appeared to be a fatal wound by the horn of a stag. The carcass of the stag lay nearby. Mewling pups lay around the body of their mother, searching for milk. I dismounted and moved towards Robb who lay holding a pup beside the dead direwolf. A small pup crawled under my skirts and clung to my leg. Lifting my skirts up a little, I carefully detached a sandy white direwolf pup from my leg. Its green eyes looked at mine own grey orbs and began whimpering at me. In the end, father let us keep all the pups as long as we looked after them ourselves. There were seven pups, one of which was an albino. During the rest of the journey, I contemplated on what to name my direwolf pup. _Willow. _I had found her underneath a willow tree so it only seemed appropriate. Robb named his _Grey Wind _as it was the faster than the rest of them, Sansa named hers _Lady, _Arya named hers _Nymeria _after the Queen who had led her people from the Rhoyne river in Essos to Dorne, Jon named his albino pup _Ghost _as it prowled as soundlessly as one, and Rickon, funnily, named his _Shaggydog _as he thought his black direwolf pup looked like a shaggy dog. Bran still hadn't decided on a name.

Towards the end of the night, Willow crept into my bed and snuggled into my side. "Willow, you are one of the only seven direwolves south of the Wall. I hope you know how rare you are." I cooed at it. She looked into my eyes as if she could understand what I was saying and snuggled closer to me. I felt absolutely safe with Willow sleeping beside me to protect me.


	3. Chemistry

_**Chapter Two- Chemistry**_

_**Young Griff**_

"Aegon, wake up! We must speak!" Jon Connington shook me awake hurriedly. I woke up, yawning and stretching, on the trading boat Magister Illyrio Mopatis had given us to reside in to conceal our identity. The ship rocked, like a mother rocking her child to sleep, on the piers of Pentos. I had had another Dragon dream. This time, I was atop a dragon with emerald green scales which shimmered due to the sunlight hitting them. Its eyes were as red as ember, _a dragon is a fire with flesh, _Halfmaester Haldon had once told me.

"What's the matter, Jon?" I asked the man who had raised me as his own son. He used to be my grandfather's Hand before he lost the Battle of Bells to the Usurper, Robert Baratheon, and was banished from the seven kingdoms. He was still furious about that. You could feel his rage coming off of his person in vapours.

"One of Illyrio's messengers arrived this morning. Your uncle, Viserys, and aunt, Daenerys, have come to the palace. Viserys believes himself to be the last male Targaryen so he is most likely to marry your aunt. But perhaps if your identity was revealed, you could marry your aunt and produce an heir." Jon told me. I was stunned. I had no wish to marry my aunt. I barely knew her! Jon had raised me with the knowledge that my marriage would be a political pact more than one of love but I hadn't imagined that the time would arrive so soon!

"Even if we do marry and produce a child, he would be the heir of nothing unless we recapture Westeros." I pointed out to him, hoping to buy myself more time.

"It will occur in due time, Aegon. We have waited all these years for vengeance, another few years does not matter. Now get dressed and dye your hair again. I do not trust these other Targaryens." Jon said and walked out of the cabin.

Grunting loudly, I got up and dressed in common roughspun clothes so as to not draw too much attention towards myself. The only reason I had survived so long from the clutches of the Usurper was due to the fact that he believed me to be dead while I was cloaked by the identity of a sellswords's whelp.

After checking my dye, I walked up to the deck where Jon Connington was longingly looking towards the direction of Westeros across the seas. He was a well-built man treated kindly by age. His hair was peppered and was red towards the roots but blue elsewhere. His jaw was set firmly and you could see that he was intensely thinking about something which mattered a lot to him.

"I'm ready." I announced.

"Let us leave then" He replied and briskly walked over the plank and onto the pier.

We rode hard towards Illyrio's palace. Every single gallop by the horse made me feel like I was nearing closer and closer to the end of my happiness. Daenerys was my aunt. My own flesh and blood. It repulsed me to even think about marrying her. But I had to. I had a duty towards my people and I would marry this aunt of mine if it meant I would be closer in defeating the Usurper who was my father's murderer.

Upon reaching the gates, the guards let us pass through as they knew us by memory. Upon reaching the stables, we handed over our horses to the stable hand and made towards the courtyard where Illyrio was seated with a man and a girl who both had silver white hair and shining bright violet eyes. It was my uncle, Viserys Targaryen and my aunt, Daenerys.

"Illyrio" Jon announced our arrival.

"Ah! Griff! Meet Viserys Targaryen, the true king of Westeros and his sister, Daenerys. Viserys, meet Griff, a sellsword friend of mine and his son, Young Griff." Illyrio had used our disguises.

"We shall talk later of this matter, Illyrio. Come, we must leave, sister." He said, disdainfully looking at Jon and I. That was the moment Daenerys and I made eye contact. I looked into her eyes, which were so similar to mine own and felt nothing. No sparks or chemistry. I had read in so many books that the moment you looked into the eyes of your soulmate, you knew you were destined for one another. There was no such instantaneous reaction between me and my aunt.

"Illyrio, this was what we had been waiting for! The other Targaryens are here. We must marry Daenerys to Aegon and must set plans into motion." Jon was whispering intensely to Illyrio.

"It is not yet time to conquer Westeros, my friend. We must wait until the Usurper is dead. Without him, the seven kingdoms will crumble and great houses will turn on one another. That is the ripe moment to attack. Daenerys is to marry a Dothraki horselord, Khal Drogo who is said to be the greatest of them all. He commands a large khalasar out of which 40,000 are warriors. When the time is optimum, with the Khal's help, we will conquer Westeros." Illyrio smiled and ate a plump grape off the fruit platter displayed in front of us.

"These savage horselords will never cross the seas. They fear water. Instead if we marry Aegon and Daenerys, their heir will be supported by the Golden Company. With their help, we can reconquer Westeros." Jon retorted.

"With the help of these Dothraki horselords, Viserys will conquer Westeros. After Viserys regains the Iron Throne, Aegon must return to Westeros. A son's claim is much stronger than that of an uncle. Viserys will have no other option that to hand over the Iron Throne. And hence, Aegon becomes the king of Westeros with no harm afflicted upon him. If you really wish to marry Aegon then, you can marry him to Margaery Tyrell or Isabella Stark." Illyrio ended the argument.

We were given rooms to stay the night in. Due to the riding in the hot sun, I was dirty and sweaty. After bathing myself clean, I had dinner with Jon and Magister Illyrio. While the waiting girls were making seductive glances at me, Jon and Illyrio discussed the course of action. Ever since I reached puberty, women and girls began growing more attracted towards me. It was a matter which filled me with great pride. Other than a Lyseni whore I had had upon reaching my manhood, I had not been with another woman. Nor would I be with anyone other than my future wife. I just hoped my marriage would be, like the love stories I had read in many books, one filled with passion and love.

Upon tossing and turning in my bed at night, I gave up my attempts of sleeping and walked towards Illyrio's gardens. Illyrio's gardens had a wide array of exotic flowers from Asshai to the Reach. Sitting upon a bench, I looked at the moon which was full tonight. I heard a wisp of silk towards my right. After turning my head towards the direction of the noise, I saw my aunt Daenerys. I quickly got up from the bench and made to walk away from her.

"Oh no, please don't walk away due to my arrival. It's Young Griff, isn't it?" She asked me meekly. She was not how I imagined my future wife to be at all. She was too meek and submissive. There was no sparks, no chemistry between the two of us.

"Yes, Milady. If you'll excuse me, I am feeling rather drowsy currently. Goodnight, Milady." I replied and walked towards my room. Upon collapsing on my bed, only one thought spiraled through my head. _Where are you, my soulmate? _


	4. Long Lost Love

_**Chapter Three- Long lost love**_

**Robb Stark**

We were awoken early by Mother. Isabella was yawning loudly, her head nearly falling on Jon's lap. Rickon was already snoring with his head on Bran's shoulder while Bran was nodding off too. Arya had leant her head on a windowsill and had her eyes closed. Sansa, being the perfect lady, was fighting off sleep quite successfully, better than the rest of us anyway. Finally, Mother and Father walked into their solar.

"You are all probably wondering why I have summoned you here." Father began. Seeing everyone's near unconscious state, he coughed loudly to which Isabella's snore replied. Stifling a chuckle, Father said, "Robb, Jon, Sansa, would you please wake up your fellow siblings." Nearing Isabella's ear, I loudly said, "Boo". Isabella shrilly screamed and woke up wide eyed. Her scream woke up Bran, Arya and Rickon. Everyone began laughing at their incoherent state (well, Isabella's anyway) while Isabella glared at me. 'This isn't over' She mouthed to me to which I replied, 'Bring it on'.

Father cleared his throat and began speaking again, "While that was extremely amusing, Robb, let us get back to business. The Hand of the King, Jon Arryn, is dead. The King is making his way towards Winterfell. Last night, we received a raven from Barrowtown that the King had just left and was coming here. So, he will be here soon. I expect you all to be on your best behaviour."

"Aren't we always, Father?" I grinned at him lopsidedly.

"Well, Jon, Theon and you are immediately going to go to the Barber and get that beard shaved off." Mother said sternly.

"But I had just begun growing a beard! I really wanted one like Lord Karstark's, Mother! And besides, why should we get prissed for the King's arrival?" I asked.

"You will do as you are told. Isabella, you will wear your best gown, not those grey one's you prefer. Sansa, just be yourself. Arya, you are immediately going to take a bath and put on a gown for once. Bran, no climbing walls, how many times do I have to point out its dangers to you? Rickon, you desperately need a bath too." Mother began ranting out instructions.

"I'm a Stark, it's perfectly appropriate for me to wear grey!" Isabella defended herself.

"Well, they're here to meet you and Father. Why should I wear a gown?" Arya spat out.

"Mother, I'm surefooted, I won't fall off." Bran said.

"I don't smell. I don't need a bath." Rickon angrily snapped.

"Enough! You are to do as your mother instructs you." Father ended all our arguments. Grumbling everyone filed out of the room. Jon and I walked towards Theon's room. Without knocking, we entered the room to see Theon sleeping with a naked serving wench snuggled into his side.

"Oi, Theon! Wake up, sunshine!" I slapped his face.

"What in the name of the Drowned God! Stark! What in the seven hells was that for?" Theon sputtered at me sleepily.

"The King's coming to Winterfell. Mother has instructed us to go to the Barber. Get dressed and meet us there, or face Mother's wrath. Choose wisely, Greyjoy." I snickered and walked out of the room with my half-brother, Jon. We made our way towards the Barber where we discovered that Mother had already given him instructions. After thoroughly washing our face free of grime and dirt, the Barber began his work. He trimmed my long auburn locks and shaved my precious beard off. I'd spent three month carefully grooming it. Theon finally arrived and was sheared by the barber too. Finally, it was Jon's turn.

"Give him a nice thorough trim, Kirth. I've never met a girl he likes more than his hair." I grinned while Jon looked like a deer in headlights seeing the Barber's knife.

"I don't understand why we have to get prepped for the King's arrival. From what I've heard, he isn't exactly very well presentable, either." Jon said.

"I bet it's for the Queen." Theon grinned lustily.

After Jon was cropped by the Barber, we came back to our rooms and dressed in all our finery. We finally met up in the courtyard where we saw the girls lining up too. Sansa had dressed up in a blue gown which she had boasted of embroiding last month. She looked like the proper lady she always was. Isabella was fidgeting with the hem of a brown and cream coloured gown. The top was brown while the skirts and the sleeves were cream of colour. You could see that Mother had braided beads into her hair. Bran and Rickon were dressed in their best leathers. But there was someone missing.

"Where's Arya?" Isabella and I asked each other at the same time. One of the perks of being twins. Sometimes, we both had the same thoughts. By looking at us, you wouldn't be able to tell that we were twins. I had inherited mother's Tully blue eyes and auburn hair while Isabella had inherited Father's Northern grey eyes and dark brown hair.

"She must be here somewhere." I replied.

"Mother's going to be livid if she misses this." Isabella replied.

"The King's here! I saw him coming!" Arya shouted and came running towards us. Surprisingly, she was wearing a gown. She was also wearing a steel helmet on her head. Typical Arya. I saw Isabella chuckling at Arya too. Father removed the helmet and gave it to Mikken. We then stood in formation. Father first, then Mother, followed by I, Isabella, Sansa, Arya, Bran and Rickon. Mother made Jon stand behind us because she thought the King might find it a slight to witness a bastard. From the stories I'd heard, he himself had fathered numerous bastards. Theon was standing with him because the king hated Greyjoys.

The king arrived on a black horse. From the memories I'd heard from Father, Robert Baratheon was heavily muscled and strapping. Not this fat, shaggy man. Yet the golden crown on his head showcased the fact that he was the King of Westeros. He got off his horse, which frankly was to be applauded for carrying so much weight, while the crown prince, Joffrey was looking at my sisters like a piece of meat. Isabella seemed disgusted by this while Sansa was smiling at him shyly. I didn't like the interaction between them at all. The Queen and the rest of the royal family stepped out of the carriage. She looked nothing like the golden-haired goddess described in those songs Sansa loved. The Kingslayer on the other hand looked mighty on his white destrier with his Kingsguard armour. He looked more like a King than the actual King.

The King walked up towards Father while we knelt down. With a quick dismissal of our curtsy, we began to get up.

"You've gotten fat." The King told Father. Father didn't reply but stared pointedly at the King's own gargantuan stomach. The king began to roar with laughter and they both hugged each other like brothers. "Cat! You look beautiful!" The king kissed mother's hand courteously. "You must be Robb!" He told me, moving further down the line. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Grace." I replied. "Your boy is quite the sweet-talker, Ned!" He chuckled and looked at Isabella.

The grin died on his face. Intense emotions could be seen flooding through his face. Sadness, loss, love. He was looking at her like how one looks at their long lost love. "Lyanna?" He gasped. "No, Your Grace. It's Isabella Stark." Isabella stuttered awkwardly. I didn't like the way he looked at her at all. People normally compared my sister's beauty to my dead aunt's. My aunt was betrothed to Robert Baratheon before she was kidnapped by Rhaegar Targaryen. Robert Baratheon had started a rebellion to save her. He won the rebellion but lost her. Even though my sister looked like my aunt, she wasn't her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, child. Just a case of nostalgia." The king snapped out of his trance and moved on to greet the rest of my family who just received mere nods. "Ned, we should pay our respects to the dead." The King said and nodded towards the crypts. "It's been a long journey. Surely the dead can wait, my love." The queen asked the king sweetly. Too sweet. You could tell it was faked. "Ned" The king dismissed her request and walked towards the crypts with father. When they left, the queen gave one sharp icy glance at Isabella and walked towards the Kingslayer.

"Come on, Izzy. Let's go." I said, linking my arm with her hand and walking towards the Godswood. I would have to keep a close eye on my beautiful twin sister during the King's visit to protect her from harm. I vowed to defend my dazed twin sister.


	5. Take a deep breath

_**Chapter Four- Take a deep breath**_

**Tommen Baratheon**

Winterfell was such a huge castle! My caretaker, Miriam, had once told me it was built by Bran the Builder using giants. I really wanted to see giants! But there were none of them present in Winterfell. Myrcella, Mother and I got out of the carriage and saw the Stark family. Father was busy talking to another man. I suppose he was Lord Stark. Miriam had told me that Father and Lord Stark were the best of friends while being fostered by Jon Arryn. Jon Arryn was like a second father to me. He always used to give me sweets whenever he saw me. I cried when he died. Next to Lord Stark was his wife, Lady Stark and their children.

After Father finished greeting them, he went to the crypts with Lord Stark. Mother went to Joffrey as she always did. She always paid more attention to my elder brother than she did to me or Myrcella. Did she love me less than she loved Joffrey? Joffy always used to tell me that I was an embarrassment to the family because of my fatness. I couldn't help it. I tried to eat less but I would always be so hungry later that I'd eat even more. Myrcella held my hand and said, "Let's explore the castle, Tommen."

We walked towards the Godswood. The Northerners didn't pray to the Seven, the prayed to the Old Gods. Miriam had once told me that the children of the forest had carved faces in weirwoods to which Northerners worshipped. There were tall elms and oaks surrounding the godswood while a bone white weirwood stood in the centre. There were hot springs which steamed. I desperately wanted to take a dip in them but Myrcella said we would do it later after we finished exploring.

A tall boy with auburn hair and blue eyes was deep in conversation with a girl who had dark brown hair and grey eyes. They were both really pretty. Myrcella began blushing when the boy turned to see us. "Lord Robb Stark, Lady Isabella Stark." She curtsied. "My princess" They curtsied back to her. I did the same thing and they repeated the curtsy. Two small puppies looked at me and mewled. They reminded me of my kittens back home in King's Landing. "What are they?" I asked in wonder. "They're direwolf puppies, your grace." Isabella Stark replied. "But direwolves haven't been seen south of the wall in ages!" Myrcella gasped, frightened. Robb Stark began to reassure her while I moved towards the puppies. A sandy coloured one came forward and licked my hand. I giggled and began petting its head. "What's its name?" I asked Isabella. "This is Willow while that is Grey Wind. And my name is Isabella but you can call me Izzy." She told me. I really liked her. "Well, Izzy, I'm Tommen." Izzy and I began playing with Willow while Robb escorted Myrcella back to the castle.

After a while, Izzy said, "Tom, we'd better get back to the castle before they come looking for us. I'll introduce you to my brothers, I'm sure you'll get along grandly." "Can we come back to the hot springs tomorrow?" I asked her. "Yes, I promise to bring you to the hot springs tomorrow." She replied and took my hand. Hand in hand, we walked back to the castle.

She introduced me to her brother, Bran who was my age. Bran then showed me around the castle. He knew so many stories! He told me of the Rat Cook, the Night's King and Brandon the Shipbuilder while I told him about Bloodraven, Queen Nymeria and Lann the Clever. He took me to the crypts where all the Starks were buried. There were so many crypts! I was really glad I'd made friends with Izzy and Bran.

The next morning, Bran, Joffrey, Robb Stark, Theon Greyjoy, Jon Snow and I gathered in the practise yard where we began practising with tourney swords. Bran always beat me and I tripped quite a few times. Bran would always help me up and tell me to try again. Toward the end of the training session, I was dirty and sweaty and was unable to defeat Bran even once.

"You are just despicable. It disgusts me to call you my brother. You are fat and weak!" Joffrey spat at me angrily and walked away with his Dog. With tears in my eyes, I began walking towards my chambers when I bumped into Izzy and fell down. She knelt down and saw my tears. "Are you alright, Tom? Are you hurt?" She asked and began searching for wounds. "I'm alright, Izzy." I said and stood up. "Okay, then. I was about to come meet you. Let's go to the hot springs. I've got towels here." She said and took my hand.

We walked towards the Godswood in silence. Once we reached a big spring, I stripped and jumped into it. The hot water did wonders on my aching body. Remembering Joffrey's words, I began to tear up again. "What's the matter, Tom?" Izzy asked me from the edge of the spring where she had dipped her legs into the water. "Joffrey says I'm disgusting, fat and weak because I wasn't able to defeat Bran even once with a sword during the practise session this morning." I cried. "Oh Tom! I don't think you're despicable, fat or weak! I think you are a cute, sweet little boy. A sword isn't always one's best weapon. Look at your father for instance; he's good with a warhammmer, not a sword. While you aren't particularly skilled in swordplay, you could be a natural at archery or with a spear. Tomorrow, if you want, when everyone goes to the Wolfswood to hunt, I could teach you how to shoot with a bow." Izzy consoled me. "You know archery?" I asked gobsmacked. "Keep it a secret, won't you?" She winked at me.

After I wore my clothes, we walked back to the castle and had dinner. After confirming tomorrow's plans, I went to sleep with a smile on my face.

That morning, after we broke our fast, father and the rest of the men went away to hunt in the wolfswood. I made my way towards the practise yard with Izzy. She gave me a shortbow and slung a quarrel over my shoulder. She made me hold my right foot over my left and load the bow. "Aim correctly. Now take a deep breath and let go of the arrow." I let go of the arrow and it landed very close to the centre. I couldn't believe it! Izzy was right, even though I was bad at swordplay; I was really good with a bow. "Did you see that, Izzy? I did it. I'm not pathetic now, am I?" I grinned at her. "Yes, Tom, I saw that. I told you that you weren't pathetic. Now, come on, let's practise some more so that you'll be able to him the centre." I continued practising until finally, I hit the bull's-eye. I began dancing around funnily while Izzy clapped and giggled.

"Lady Isabella" A Stark guard came over with a sombre expression on his face.

"Yes?" Izzy asked him curiously. I had a queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach that something was wrong.

"It's Lord Brandon, milady. He's fallen."


End file.
